


Love Thy Neighbor

by Kath (KathWolfie)



Series: KuroDai Tumblr Drabbles [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Comedy, Cussing, Drabble Collection, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tags May Change, Who's gonna save Daichi, You can always count on Bokuto being there when something weird happens, for now, unfortunately for our 'heroes' it implies things but not for them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 11:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11290119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathWolfie/pseuds/Kath
Summary: Cheap apartments for college students brought them together. And things happen there all time.





	1. First night

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series of loosely related drabbles. There is no real continuity here, it's more like a short collection of random scenes from kurodai (and Bokuto's) life in a cheap apartment complex. 
> 
> Soooo... I'll just leave it here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt from this post: [ you knocked furiously on my door to tell me to stop having loud sex but when i appear fully clothed in front of you, we both are disturbed by the thought of it being the old lady from above ](https://iliveonthenet.tumblr.com/post/124651587171/some-shitty-neighbour-aus)

If Daichi asked his friends to describe him, he is more than one hundred percent sure that not one of them would use word ‘nosy’ or ‘intrusive’. (Most probably because the list would be filled with synonyms to ‘short-tempered’ and ‘dense’ - he’s still wondering where Suga got the last one from.)

So it’s only natural for him to be reluctant about going out of his room, right? Especially in the middle of his first night in a new apartment. Especially when it’s supposed to be an ‘intervention’. Especially if it involves walking on something he knows he doesn’t want to see, judging from the noises. Especially when he is somehow unprepared to ask the people he doesn’t know to  _just stop fucking already_.

The groaning and moaning don't cease in its intensity. It comes from the apartment on the left - or so Daichi assumes, while desperately trying to cover his head with the only pillow he has.

Daichi is slowly losing his mind. He wants to sleep, preferably now, but the circumstances are more than unfavorable for him. After another ten minutes filled with the sounds of some serious coital bliss, he decides it is necessary for him to put an end to this. He grabs his jacket, slips into his flip-flops and leaves the room, setting to resolve the problem with his most polite smile. And hopefully without a need to shed any blood.

(He likes his new apartment, plus the rent is reasonable and he doesn’t want to go through the home-hunting again, not after moving in here approximately sixteen hours ago.)

He reaches his neighbor’s door and without an ounce of his earlier hesitation raps at it couple of times. There is a moment of silence before he hears someone shuffling to open up.

Daichi is ready to explain why he came here the second the keys make a clicking sound in the lock, but when he is confronted with one very sleepy, very much clothed Kuroo Tetsurou, the words die on his tongue.

To his credit, Kuroo seems to regain some of his consciousness when his eyes land on Daichi’s face.

“Sawamura? So you’re the new neighbor?”

How Daichi is able to collect himself so quickly is a mystery, even to himself.

“Yes, apparently that’s me,” he lets out a sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose. Kuroo yawns, but stays in his place, waiting. Daichi knows he owes him an explanation, but he doesn’t know how to form it in a way that won’t sound like ‘I thought you were banging somebody and came here to tell you guys to shut the fuck up, sorry for intruding’.

A loud groan of satisfaction, only slightly muffled by the thin walls, makes Daichi almost jump out of his skin. A flash of realization crosses Kuroo’s features - he smirks and Daichi can’t help but find it both unnerving and ridiculously attractive.

“Too bad, that’s not me, so I can’t help you.”

“I figured this much,” his shoulders fall in time with his hope for a good night’s sleep. He turns around to go back to his apartment without accomplishing his goal.

Another soul-piercing moan penetrates the night. Kuroo doesn’t make a move to go back to his own room, so Daichi figures he wants something from him. Their eyes meet - the blank look on Kuroo’s face alarms Daichi enough to make a couple of steps in his direction. He stops dead in his tracks when his mind finally connects the dots.

The apartment right under Kuroo’s belongs to the landlady, a rather tough-looking woman in her fifties.

“I think I know why it was so cheap,” Kuroo says.

Daichi lets an exasperated sigh. He is tired, that’s for sure. Half an hour ago he was also annoyed, but right now the phrase ‘utter resignation’ describes his state better.

Well, at least he knows he is not the only one scarred for life. And having a familiar face around gives him a weird sense of security. He feels brave enough (thanks, weariness, you’re as supportive as alcohol in this kind of situations) to propose a solution for them both.

“I don’t know how you managed to sleep through the majority of it, but right now it will be impossible, right? I think I saw a pharmacy two blocks down the street. Wanna go shopping for some earplugs?”

At first, Kuroo looks shocked, but a couple of seconds later he breaks into a grin.

“I never took you for the spontaneous type, Sawamura.”

“I get that a lot.”


	2. Mail box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt from this post:[“my friend told me lick your mailbox on a dare and when i went to do the dare you were leaving the house to get your mail but i didn’t notice so now you’re staring at me as i lick your mailbox” au ](https://iliveonthenet.tumblr.com/post/126033921556/caprxgers-some-oddly-specific-aus-that-no-one)

Daichi stares because it is the only logical thing he can manage at the moment. There is a guy standing right next to Daichi’s door, hovering over Daichi’s mailbox, making out with its cold metal, tongue flicking playfully over its surface. Daichi stares some more, frozen with shock and maybe a little mortified by the fact that the guy just won’t stop, but then he hears a snicker from the side and notices some other guy standing near with a phone in his hand.

The cogs start turning and Daichi finally understands.

His ‘what the actual fuck’ is loud enough to startle both the cameraman and the mailbox lover, forcing them to look at him.

Two simultaneous ‘shit, fuck’ made Daichi’s right eye twitch. Right now he recognises the dumb looks on the dumb faces before him and really, he should have expected that.

“S-Sawamura, fancy seeing you here,” the taller one speaks up, his cheeks dusted with pink, while he tries to avoid Daichi’s piercing gaze.

“Care to explain this fuckery, Kuroo?” Daichi knows he must be looking like fury incarnated, seeing how color drains from the two faces before him.

“It was a dare!” Kuroo squeaks out, and when there is no immediate answer on Daichi’s side, he adds: “Bokuto made me do it, I swear!”, while an indignant “Bro!” slips past the cameraman’s slightly parted lips.

Daichi takes a deep breath, his back sagging. He doesn’t have the time and energy for this, really. Both perpetrators look chastised enough by his sole presence, making him feel just a tiny bit better.

He sighs one more time, making his way between Kuroo’s shoulder and the railing, then pushing past petrified Bokuto. All in all, the looks on their faces are hilarious enough to make Daichi smirk. And just before he goes to do his own thing, deciding to check his mail later, heavy bag with books hanging off his shoulder, he turns around, narrowing his eyes at Kuroo.

“I’m rather fond of my mailbox, so you better treat it right, you flirty bastard.”

When he turns around the sound of muffled giggles reaches his ears. Then there is a loud smack and he’s pretty sure that the back of Bokuto’s head must hurt. A lot.


	3. Parent's gratitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt from this post: [MY MOM KNITTED YOU A JUMPER ](https://iliveonthenet.tumblr.com/post/133754386656/all-star-baker-blakesmilitia-im-always-a)

Kuroo thinks that the smirk stretching his lips is going to make him the next Joker, his jaw is fucking hurting. But how can you not smirk like that when Sawamura Daichi is ready to combust, standing at your doorstep with a package in his outstretched hands, waiting for you to finally take it and end his evident misery.

“My mother wanted to thank you for that time you helped her get here,” Sawamura’s ears are red, his cheeks are red and his eyes are downcast and isn’t that just the cutest, aw.

“Your mother is a charming woman, how could I not help her,” Kuroo still doesn’t make a move to take the package, just looks at the other, taking full advantage of their height difference.

“Will you accept it?” Sawamura looks at him, big brown orbs begging him to just end it and Kuroo might actually concede, but they are interrupted by Bokuto’s booming voice.

“Oi, Sawamura, are you finally proposing?!”

Kuroo doesn’t know what happens next - he sees the package flying straight at Bokuto’s face, but his friend is quicker. He ducks and the package crashes into the wall… aaand something made out of glass breaks inside of it.

“What’s going on up there?” Their landlady sounds positively annoyed - it definitely isn’t a good sign. Kuroo casts a glance in Sawamura’s direction, but the guy seems more shocked than Kuroo is. Then they hear footsteps - Sawamura looks like he is ready to drop dead at any given moment and Kuroo, actually being a decent and nice person, takes a pity on him. He pulls Sawamura inside his apartment, simultaneously making his way to the staircase and the slightly wrecked package. When the landlady reaches the last step on the staircase, Bokuto is nowhere to be found, Sawamura is surprisingly obedient in staying behind closed doors and it’s Kuroo who gets to deal with the whole mess. He cradles the box inside his arms and smiles sheepishly at the middle-aged woman before him.

“I’m sorry for the commotion, Miyawa-san, I kind of tripped,” he bows in an apology, his most charming smile used as an additional weapon against the potential anger of their esteemed landlady. She narrows her eyes at him, then at the package, then back at him, so he bows a couple more times, retreating to his apartment. She’s suspicious, no doubt about it, but she waves him off. When he reaches the door, he is greeted by Sawamura’s embarrassed expression. Kuroo puts the package on the counter and unwraps it, noting the curious look in Sawamura’s eyes. ‘So he doesn’t have any idea about its contents, huh?’

“What’s inside?” Sawamura asks, regretting it approximately five milliseconds later, seeing as his face pales considerably after witnessing Kuroo’s smug smirk.

"You owe me a handmade jumper and a bottle of sake, Sawamura- _kun_.” 


	4. Golden hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt from this post: [I KNITTED YOU A JUMPER ](https://iliveonthenet.tumblr.com/post/133754386656/all-star-baker-blakesmilitia-im-always-a)

Kuroo hopes he isn’t as red in the face as Sawamura is, but he has a dreadful suspicion that if this goes on, his brain will reach the boiling point much quicker than he actually expected it to. 

“I’m not as good as my mom, but I hope it will be to your liking. You know, as a compensation. Thank you for covering for me the other day and sorry for ruining your present,” Sawamura looks up at him, dark eyes clear and sincere, blush from his cheeks slowly spreading to his neck. Kuroo nods and takes the package, his whole body buzzing with barely contained excitement.

“I’ll be on my way. See ya,” there is something awkwardly sweet in Sawamura’s smile and Kuroo prays to whoever is listening to not fall deeper. He has yet another dreadful suspicion that his prayers won’t do much. Sawamura turns around and just before he makes a step, Kuroo speaks up:

“Thanks. I will make sure to not throw this one at Bokuto this time,” he smiles, hints of mischievousness bleeding into his tone. “By the way, give my regards to your mom and your mailbox.”

Sawamura visibly relaxes, sparing him a glance and a heart-warming grin.

“I will.”

Kuroo goes back to his apartment, opening the box with slightly trembling hands. Inside, he finds a checkered, black-and-red, handmade jumper, a bottle of some expensive looking sake and a letter.

He leaves the bottle on the table, then grabs the jumper and the letter. He sits down, putting them in his lap. He stares. His gaze flicks between Sawamura’s neat hand-writing and the sweater, realising that he can totally see the similarities between the two things. Then he stares some more.

Bokuto finds him like this about two hours later. He tries to comprehend the meaning of the scene, but he quickly gives up, opting for asking and resolving the mystery of red-faced Kuroo the quickest way possible.

“What’s that?”

“A handmade jumper,” Kuroo mumbles, his usually sharp, piercing eyes foggy with something… weird.

“Oh? Is this the one Sawamura was-”

“He made it for me. Is there a fucking thing that this guy can’t do?”

Bokuto’s eyes become saucer-sized because damn, nobody expected Sawamura to actually go through with _knitting_  something. After the initial shock, a very knowing smirk stretches Bokuto’s lips.

“How long have you been like this?”

“I don’t know, an hour? Or two? It’s like, everything he touches turns into gold, what the fuck.”

“Better watch out for your dick then. Before it turns into a gold bar, y’know?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Bokuto, for your insightful comment. Also: this is the last one for now. Maybe, when my muse comes back from war I'll manage to write something more.

**Author's Note:**

> [Find me on Tumblr](http://at-the-road-beginning.tumblr.com/)


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